Entirely Human
by emillywinter
Summary: They feel, they hurt, they are lonely, and they are broken. They cry, they laugh, they love. Even if they don't acknowledge it, they are entirely human.
1. Chapter 1

_Summary_ _:_ The first time they met was when they were five or four maybe. The boy with the red eyes remembers; the other one does not.

* * *

 **Scars, Loneliness, and the Stars**

* * *

"I know what those are." – The first boy tells the other as he looks at the scars on his wrist.

The other boy is young, four of five maybe. He remains silent. He just grabs metal parts of the swing in his little hands harder.

The other boy goes on - "My neighbor has the same ones. My mum says that she hurts herself because other people have hurt her. I haven't seen her for a long time. Mum says that she was so sad and lonely that she had to go to a better place."

The boy on the swing looks up; his red eyes meeting the other ones.

"Don't worry, I won't go away. I am not like your neighbor; when they hurt me, I smile and I say "Just do it, monster". It hurts more, but they don't see it; so, it doesn't really matter."

"I will be your friend, and you won't ever have to be alone again. So, when they try to hurt you, I will protect you."

The boy with the red eyes smiles for the first time. _He looks like the angel_ \- the other boy thinks.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

Ten years pass until boys meet each other again. The boy with the red eyes remembers; the other one does not.

Everything hurts as he hears the words of hatred; of refusal; and he has never felt as alone as in that moment. He moves the blade across the other boy's skin, cutting him, letting the blood leak. He bets that it still hurts less than his own chest hurts.

Shizuo, Shizu-chan; that is the name of a person he has thought about every night before his sleep. He finally knows it; even if it is too late. He is alone, and the name is unimportant. Shizu-chan forgot that he existed.

That night, for the first time in ten years, he hurts himself. He swears that Shizu-chan won't ever again forget about him.

* * *

Ten more years pass. They are adults now. Every day the boy with the red eyes made sure that the other wouldn't forget him. Shizu-chan hates him now. But, even the hatred is better than the indifference.

Some nights, he remembers the story of Shizu-chan's neighbor. As long as Shizuo feels something for him, he won't go away. He still hurts himself, and he now has more scars than blank skin, but it is ok. The people can't hurt him anymore; only Shizuo can.

So, he smiles as he runs. The smile is broken and fake. It is the only kind of smile he is capable of now.

He is being chased out from the other's life.

When the blond girl shows, he feels the most alone; like it is only a matter of time until he is forgotten once again. He knows that he won't survive that, and he thinks that he would rather go away by the monster's hand than his own. At least that way, Shizuo won't be able to delete his existence.

He gives his best to leave a mark. When he says "Do it, monster" the other one finally remembers; but then, it is a decade too late.

* * *

The boy with the red eyes leaves like an animal with a tail between his legs. He changes the city, and he is now in a wheelchair. He doesn't feel alone anymore. He doesn't feel anything. He is dead inside.

Shizuo remembers, but it is now too late. He dreams about the red eyes and the smile he has seen only once, years ago. He is the one who is alone now. Even though he got what he wanted, it doesn't feel right.

The loneliness hurts; so, Shizuo takes the knife he has picked up after the other has left. He moves it across the tender skin of his wrist. The blood leaks, but he doesn't feel better; he feels worse.

He looks at the stars, he calls the name, but the silence is the only response he gets.

They don't meet again. They don't talk.

The both of them got what they wanted; the boy with red eyes not to be forgotten, and the other one to be left alone. They both love each other, but they are lonely. They both would give anything to move time backwards, but they aren't capable to. The only thing that makes them better is the knowledge that the same stars are above them. It is the only time when they feel a little less lonely, because even if they are alone, it somehow still feels like they are together.


	2. Chapter 2

_Summary:_ Shizuo dreams of the most beautiful smile; of the most vibrant eyes; of the most vivid voice. He dreams about the warmth of the sunlight, the softness of the grass. He dreams not to wake up, not to be alone, and to always feel this complete.

* * *

 **Dreaming Hope**

Everything feels warm. The feathery touch of the sunlight on his skin is so light that he would swear this is a dream. Next to him there is a figure of another person. The black hair and the red eyes serve as an immediate recognition and he smiles. His hand is moving slowly, touching the edges of a frame that is another's body. He moves instantly until there is not any amount of space between them. He feels the softness of a kiss; the lips are gentle and moving slowly. They are warmer than the sunlight.

In all his life he has never been happier. The feeling of completeness is present more than anything else, and he knows that the other part of his soul is right next to him. He is whole.

He hugs the person in front him as if the other will move and go away, easily as the wind can blow. He never wants to let go; never wants to be alone again.

Simultaneously, moments pass and the time stays still. He breathes and his heart ticks; but, he doesn't move. The person in his arms smiles. It is the most enchanting thing he has ever seen. The stars and the moon can't compare. He kisses his other half. He can stay forever perfectly still with only his lips moving and his chest rising.

The person links their hands together and now he can feel the grass under his naked feet as they walk. They take steps, but they don't move. He looks the person with the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. When their eyes meet he can see the depth of the other's soul. It is broken, and it is scared, but it is still the most stunning thing he has ever looked into.

Everything is warm, and everything is whole. Everything is complete and everything is as it should be.

* * *

He opens his eyes and he instantly regrets. The room is dark and he feels the coldness of an air. His blankets are laid on the floor. There isn't any sunlight and there isn't any grass. Its existence is deleted.

He is alone and he is shaking. His body refuses to stay still. His eyes are leaking and he sobs. The pillow is wet; and time cannot pass fast enough. It may be seconds or hours until he pushes every muscle in his body to stand up.

He lights a cigarette; a familiar smoke fills his lungs and a new day can begin. He will go to his job. He will walk through the city empty of the presence that left a scar behind. He will buy that cake that he yesterday wanted. He will talk, and move. He will sit with his friends who now feel more like strangers. He will come home alone and he will fall asleep. He will dream the same dream he has dreamed for so long. It is the only thing that makes him put his clothes on.

It has been more than a year since he had heard a familiar voice. It has been more than 365 days since he had last seen the redness of eyes shining more brightly than any star. It has been more than 8760 hours since he had smelled the familiar smell of the other's skin. It hasn't been a second in which he hadn't thought about the other.

He feels alone and broken. He feels like he is dead inside. The only time when he feels alive is when he dreams. He will gladly fall asleep and never wake up; but, he is a coward who hopes that he will see the light of those eyes at least once again.

The other may return. If not for him, then for his city. Ikebukuro is empty without its informant. Even if people do not notice, Shizuo does. He feels it in his bones with the every sight of the streets, with the every glimpse of the lights, with the every sound of movement.

Some mornings with that first smoke Shizuo thinks that he should have died instead. He thinks that if somebody told him how much it will hurt, he wouldn't fight. Instead, he would have just awaited his fate.

"Just do it, monster." The words are still ringing in his mind.

* * *

He takes off his clothes. Another day has passed away. He says to himself in the coldness of his apartment that there is still a chance that the other will come back. Shizuo doesn't ask much, he just wants everything to go back to how it used to be. Asking more would be too much. He would chase, as the other runs. They will fight and he will smile.

He still hopes; because humans do. And even if he doesn't see himself as one, he still is.

Shizuo closes his eyes and he dreams of the most beautiful smile; of the most vibrant eyes; of the most vivid voice. He dreams about the warmth of the sunlight, the softness of the grass. He dreams not to wake up, not to be alone, and to always feel this complete.


	3. Chapter 3

_Summary:_ If he couldn't have him, no one would. He would sell his soul to the devil just to make sure that the other is his and his alone. But now, he is broken and he gave up. He doesn't remember how hope tastes like.

* * *

 **Golden Brown**

* * *

There is a girl making her way towards him. He already knows what is going to happen even before it does. He likes to maintain his appearance, so he doesn't run away. After all, this isn't the first time this happened and he already has learned how to deal with this type of situation. He smiles; smile fake, teeth and all.

"Oh, Rina-chan, is that for me?" – He says, as his hand moves towards the purple chocolate box shaped as a heart.

The girl just looks at him. Her dark hair looks like a silk. And, blue eyes are so rare in Japan. Of course she would have them. Everyone would say she looks pretty; but, to him she looks all wrong. She is too soft; too nice, too sweet. And, Izaya hates sweet things.

He smiles wider, when he notes another box of chocolates; the same as the one she just gave him. She clenches it in her hand, almost hiding it behind her back.

"Who is the other one for?" he asks. The answer comes in words that are so quiet that he barely hears them. At first, he thinks that he has heard wrong; but the dread is slowly pulling into his bones when the girl repeats the name.

He swallows and smiles with his brightest smile. He moves his lashes, up and down. Regardless of the fact that his mask is cracking, he makes himself pull out his sweetest voice.

"But, Rina-chan; they are my favorites. What do you say to a night with me for the both of them?"

The girl looks down while her cheeks are blushing; and even before her response is a shy nod, he already feels irritated, ashamed, and dirty.

She gives him the both boxes and when he is ready to put them away, to later throw them, she looks at him like a kicked puppy and asks "Orihara-kun, won't you try them?"

Izaya hates sweet things; hates them more than anything; but he unwraps the box and takes a piece. He chews it and it's sticky in his mouth. It screams sweet, cheap, and disgusting. Nevertheless, even if he wants to throw it up, he still swallows it. He knows that he has to give her something; eating chocolate, and one night together is a small price to pay. And, he knows, if he doesn't do it, she will lose interest and go the next guy. He doesn't want that; not because she is special; but, because the next guy is.

If he can't have him, no one will. He will sell his soul to the devil just to make sure that the other is his and his alone.

Later that night, when she goes home, and his mask slips; he cries. He feels so used, dirty and cheap. He scrubs his body, changes the sheets, and he thinks of the blond locks, and warm eyes.

Even today he still feels sick when he sees that purple on commercials, billboards, and in store. He hasn't eaten chocolate ever since.

* * *

The next Valentine's day, he spends his monthly earnings on imported Belgian chocolate. He packs it in a black box and ties it with a scarlet ribbon. He writes a letter, but he is too much of a coward to sign it. The words are truth, even if there isn't any name. If Shizu-chan finds out who the sender is, he will play it like a joke. He will do anything; just not to be rejected.

Every year since then, Izaya sends the same box with the same chocolates in it. Every year he sends a letter. He never signs it. This year he does. The note is short and it simply says: " _I won't send them anymore, Izaya_."

The delivery guy rings, and just as Izaya is about to give him his package, he receives one. It is a golden box with a brown ribbon on it. It looks exactly as the one in Izaya's hands; the only thing that is different is the color.

He takes it. The note isn't sighed; but, it doesn't have to be. Izaya knows who it is from. On his face, a smile is painted; even if he isn't aware of it. He rereads the note, just to be sure that he isn't dreaming. It is simple; just three words are looking back at him: " _Please come back_."

Before Izaya gives the black box to the delivery man he removes his own note and replaces it with only one word: " _Soon_ ".

* * *

When he is alone, he opens the box. It is the same Belgian brand he always sends; but, he suspects that the taste is different. He takes one piece and tries it. It is bitter and hard. There isn't a thing sweet in it. He likes it. He closes the box, and puts a ribbon back. He wants to save this; to hold it as a reminder until he is better.

He makes a call, schedules the therapy. He holds tight the handle of his wheelchair. He will go back as soon as he can walk again. He doesn't want Shizuo to feel guilty. The part of him is screaming, why would he, you deserved this; but, he shuts down that part of himself.

He looks at the box, feeling the golden flames of hope in his chest. Everything feels warm, and for the first time in more than a year he feels. He closes his eyes and asks the white walls of his empty apartment, can he really hope. The walls stay silent, but even then he knows that the color of hope is golden brown.


	4. Chapter 4

_Summary_ : He still lies in his bed, and he still doesn't sleep. He still only exists even if he wants to live. He still doesn't look for a face, but sees the other in every shadow. He is still broken and alone. Time runs away, but his dreams don't.

* * *

 **Almost Enough**

He lies in his bed, but he doesn't sleep. This isn't anything new for him. Since that day when he decided to burn the monster, days have become the same. He wakes up, he lies in his bed, desperately trying to go back to the dreams, and he doesn't want to work, or to eat, or to leave his apartment. When the need for a bathroom becomes so great, he finally gets up (not stand up), but crows on top of his wheelchair, he maneuvers his way around the bathroom, and his legs are already killing him until he is back into the bed. He is awake and time passes, but he isn't sure how much of it, because he doesn't acknowledge seconds, minutes, or days; not really. His life has stopped and he just exists.

When the need for a bathroom becomes so great, he finally gets up (not stand up), but crows on top of his wheelchair, he maneuvers his way around the bathroom, and his legs are already killing him until he is back into the bed. He is awake and time passes, but he isn't sure how much of it, because he doesn't acknowledge seconds, minutes, or days; not really. His life has stopped and he just exists.

There isn't anything that has a power to pull him out of the rotting feeling that took a residence in his soul. He knows it is wrong, but he can seem to find any meaning in life. He doesn't want to kill himself; nevertheless, he also doesn't want to continue to live like this. Additionally, he can't make himself change anything. He knows that he is broken, he knows why he is the way he is; yet, he doesn't think that anything can be changed.

However, that little bit of hope that Shizuo gave him is pushing him harder than anything else. He wants to go back, to see the other again, but even that takes effort. When he thinks about familiar streets and about the feeling of a wind in his hair, he can almost imagine being back, having HIM back in his life and it is almost enough to get in that cursed chair that has become his life once again.

Sometimes, he opens a book even when his eyes don't note the lines and he pretends to read until he forgets about the pain. Sometimes, when he can't run away into the pages of someone else's story, he thinks about his own, even if he doesn't like doing that; and, he desperately tries to think what he could have done differently. He still thinks that he would have done everything exactly the same because that path has led him to HIM and it is almost enough.

He doesn't visit forums, or chat rooms, or read newspaper; he doesn't want to know how the other looks like even if he remembers with a perfect clarity the blond hair and the color of those eyes with the stars in them.

Yet, every time he opens a wallet those eyes stare at him with such intensity that he feels naked. The picture is always with him even if he doesn't care about sentimentality. He keeps it close and he sometimes kisses it with silent words that spell " _At least you are happy now_ ". Sometimes, the words are different, a simple wish to have a nice dream, or a broken " _I still love you_ ".

One time he calls, because he needs to know that the other is real. He doesn't say anything and he only breathes a heavy air out of his lungs. After one " _Hello?_ " from the other side, he breaks the line and his heart beats louder than in all those mounts. He doesn't call again.

Even if he doesn't want to know about the other, he still hears the rumors. He knows that the blond girl has left and went into her own country. He almost feels an old flame of content after that, but it quickly turns dim once again as he realizes that even if she is not near HIM, there are other girls with different faces who are all which he is not.

He still lies in his bed, and he still doesn't sleep. He still only exists even if he wants to live. He still doesn't look for a face, but sees the other in every shadow. He is still broken and alone. Time runs away, but his dreams don't.

One morning he can't take it anymore. He books a ticket back into his city; because, one morning an old picture in the wallet just isn't enough. He moves back in his old apartment and even if it takes effort, he makes himself stand. His legs hurt and he thinks that he will never be able to run again, but it is ok, because he needs to learn how to walk first.

Tokyo lights shine beneath, on a familiar street. He still lies in his bed, but he can't sleep. He still misses HIM, but doesn't go to see him. Even if the picture is never enough, he feels better knowing that HE is closer, breathing the same air and seeing the same stars. One day, he might see him again as a passerby, and it almost feels enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Missing you**

* * *

"I miss him. And, that is an understatement. I need him. Everything is dull and blurry without him."

If Shizuo was a little bit better with words he would say that days lost its color, that the world become dim, or that the meaning in his life was stripped from him, leaving him naked and bared; like a raw wound that needs to be scratched. He would say that it hurts deep inside his chest every time he takes a breath.

He would say many things; but, Shizuo isn't good with words and he doesn't say anything else. He just sits on the bench, looking at the ground as if it hides some answers where the other has left or when, if not, if he will ever return.

Celty stares at him; and, even if she doesn't have a head, or eyes, her gaze almost lingers. She is holding a hand over her mouth as if trying to stop the words from coming out. Nevertheless, she stays silent; as always. Then, she starts typing rapidly.

From where Izaya stands he can't really see the words shown to Shizuo; and, he can't really depict Shizuo's expression, half hidden in the shadows of his hair, half blurred by the distance that divides them.

Izaya doesn't believe what he is hearing. The silent voice in his head tells him that he must be hearing something wrong; or that he must be understanding something wrong. It must be because he is just too hopeful. He probably hears what he wants to hear and even if he hears right, Shizuo must be talking about someone else. Izaya can't allow himself to believe because that will only result in pain and disappointment. And, he had too much of that in his life so far.

Yet, there is a tiny flicker of hope lighting its way inside him. He can't quite manage to stomp over it. He doesn't want to destroy it in spite the instinct that tells him otherwise. So, Izaya takes a hold of that little hope like it is last life line. It can save him or destroy him. But, even if the stakes are this high, all he can do is stay silent and unmoving. He can stay put where he is and the only thing he manages to do is to continue doing what he was doing until his presence will be detected and until he will be chased away once again.

He doesn't think about his legs that barely work, and he doesn't think about a bag of groceries in his hand. He has never thought that a trip for mare necessities could lead to this. The fate must be a funny thing or whoever designed the world must be a comedian, because Izaya has never thought that he will see the reason for his existence this soon. Yet, he looks at him and his heart is beating loud, louder than he has ever thought possible.

Right at that moment Shizuo moves his head as fast as if he was slapped and Izaya can see the widening of his eyes in recognition. Shizuo's mouth move to form one word and Izaya hears his name out loud. The voice is shaken and raw with emotions. It sounds as a rough bark even if it feels tiny with uncertainty.

Izaya never learns the levels of hope laid in that one word. He never sees the trembling of other's hands. The only thing Izaya manages to do is to pull the brightest smile, half fake but still, half honest. The mask is already in place when he opens his mouth.

"Did you miss me?"

It is meant to sound as a joke, but somehow it doesn't. Izaya's own voice sounds strange to his ears. It almost sounds as it came out of someone else's mouth. It is weak and honest, hopeful and Izaya hates it.

Shizuo just stares at him like he is a part of his personal imagination, just an apparition and in any other situation Izaya would laugh, or tease, or do both.

A simple and barely silent "yes" comes out of Shizuo's mouth and Izaya just stands still as if he is a statue made from rock and clay. His mind is blank with everything but the constant repeat of that one little word. It is as if words lost their meaning, and everything stops. Time passes, seconds, minutes or hours; Izaya isn't sure.

The next moment, Celty is shoving something in Izaya's line of sight and even if he doesn't recognize the words, he is still brought back from whatever trance Shizuo managed to put him in. He smiles, grin painted on his face.

"You should come for dinner or something, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo blinks, not really sure that he has heard right. He doesn't have time to answer because the other has already turned away ready to disappear again.

The blurring image of Izaya's back is all Shizuo gets to see. Izaya is already moving, barely keeping the direction of his apartment in mind. He takes one step after another and if his legs are trembling, or his hands are shaking, he writes it off as a consequence of his injury. He smiles brightly looking at the sky and whispers. The stars are the only ones who hear, but even if the words are shy, they are still strong, honest, and certain.

"I missed you, as well."


	6. Chapter 6

**Never Wanting to Let Go**

* * *

His steps are making squishy sounds on a snowy ground. Gentle snowflakes are masking the top of his jacket hood coloring it white. He makes one step at the time and tries not to think about the golden hair and eyes with the stars in them.

It has been twenty days since he had seen the other; thirty since he is back. He also tries not to think about the dinner invitation he has made. Perhaps, Shizuo didn't take his words seriously. Perhaps, he didn't want to see Izaya again. The whole thing is an embarrassment to him, so he constantly deletes it from his brain.

The cold air doesn't work well for his legs, but the snow looked beautiful from his window, white and pure. Izaya just wants to feel it on the ends of his lashes.

He isn't aware how long he stands on the same spot when something hard, cold, and wet hits him on the back. He immediately turns away, as if he was slapped across the red of his cheek. The blond hair and an astonishing smile meet his line of sight.

He speaks a name and gets an uncertain "Hi" in the return.

The snow looks pale compared to Shizuo. Its beauty is immediately forgotten. Izaya's heart is loud in his chest and he swallows before he can trust his voice to speak.

"Should I run? Vending machines turned into snowballs. You really did miss me, Shizu-chan."

"Yes." Shizuo tells himself that there is not any point in lying, at least not now when the other knows. "But, I can still chase you away"; _not that I want you away_ , is left unsaid.

The big smile is painted across Shizuo's lips and he is already bending over, picking up another snowball when Izaya remembers that he should probably run.

Izaya's legs hurt, but he does his best to ignore them. The wind in his ears and the thrill of the chase are something that he almost forgot the taste of.

He laughs, and his laughter is honest. His heart is beating loud and clear, the sound of it ringing in his ears. If his hands are shaking and if his legs are weak, he ignores it. They don't matter, nothing else matters; just Shizuo behind hum, once again. He had dreamed about it for so long, imagined it; but, even the best imagination is a blurry copy of the real thing. He breaths deeply and closes his eyes. The laughter doesn't stop.

Minutes pass and even if Izaya wants to run forever, his legs are not what they used to be. He is tired and it isn't even a fifth of the way they used to normally cover. He still doesn't stop until his knees betray him and he falls into the foot deep snow; the softness of it barely working as a cushion to make the fall less painful.

In the next second, Shizuo trips; and, his body is hard against Izaya's. Izaya thinks that this is the first time he has touched the other's skin outside of their fights.

Everything is hot and heavy and Izaya's heart is ready to move out of his chest. They both breathe hard and their cheeks are red from the cold. Izaya can almost count the exact number of snowflakes melting on the golden strands of Shizuo's hair. He looks at those eyes he has dreamed so many times and he loses the part if himself in their depths. They look so warm and radiant; like stars. He can see Shizuo's soul through them. Izaya wants to kiss him more than he ever wanted anything before.

The moment ends too fast. Shizuo is getting up, apologizing. His eyes don't look at Izaya and his cheeks are even redder. Izaya wants to tease him to make him fall again. That way he could feel the warmth of Shizuo's skin one second longer; but, one second longer is more than he deserves. Izaya doesn't tease. He just asks about the dinner. When Shizuo agrees, he feels like he is the luckiest person alive.

The soft laughter echoes true the city covered in snow. Shizuo looks in front of him at the man who he missed more than the life itself; the man who is offering him dinner; the man whose laughter is more honest than any words they ever shared. That man is everything to him. So he moves next to him.

Their hands are almost touching. He can feel the warmth radiating from Izaya's skin. He takes a breath and links their fingers. They are too skinny and the ring is too cold; but, they are the reason why his heart beats; they are making him want to live, and they feel perfect. So, he holds them tighter, never wanting to let go.


End file.
